This morning when I woke up I heard the wind whipping at my window and a cold chill hung in the air.
A shiver went down my spine. Summer was officially over. With this realization at the forefront of my mind, it was even harder than most days to get out of bed.
This means no more mornings eating my cream of wheat out on the front stoop while listening to the birds chirp and cars roar by. No more days of jelly sandals skipping the pavement and ice cream dripping down my hands. No more days of gorge jumping at First Dam and handmade flower bouquets. No more days of overall skorts and one-piece bathing suits.
I suppose all good things must come to an end. Summer must have become tired and had to go to sleep for a while. It only seems natural that something as sweet and bright as the summertime must take a lot of energy to produce and only shows its fullest potential for three months of the year.
With the last drops of a season so often taken for granted until it is too late, I am reminded of the cold that lies ahead. Fuzzy blankets cover the bed, the humidifier comes out of the closet, scarves become a necessity and the weather app on your phone displays a severe drop in temperature in the way-to-near future.
Every year, we know it is coming. We can feel it and sense it in our bones. However, we are in denial until it is too late. Winter in upstate New York. The only way to survive is to make sure that your heart stays warm enough to melt the freezing temperature of your skin. Why do I put myself through this? I ask myself every year. I could have gone to college in Florida. But then, it happens.
A sparkle in the sky falls onto your windshield, and then another and another. Soon the sparkles start to match the white fuzzy blanket carefully tucked into your mattress. The first snow is magical, as if Mother Nature sent down her most loyal fairies to make sure that the flowers, tree roots, and animal burrows were carefully tucked into bed.
The whole world becomes a blank canvass. The wintertime promises a fresh start and the opportunity to create your own warmth and light, without relying on the sunny season. The first snow might mark the promise of cracked heals, wet gloves, and high heating bills, but it also marks the promise of reflection, slowing down and starting over anew.
The lilacs, flip-flops, and rainbow popsicles will be waiting for us. The hot summer sun will soon heal our flakey lips and dry throats. We must all go through the bad to get to the good. However, in the meantime we should start looking for the good within the bad: hot chocolate in front of the fire, rainbow patterned fuzzy socks, snow forts. The beauty of life lies within its cyclical nature. Everyone must go through a winter in order to have another summer.